In the age of social media, where disinformation spreads faster than facts, a recent audio recording circulating online sheds light on a concerning reality: the manufactured nature of Khalistani activism in the diaspora. The recording allegedly captures Paramjit Singh Pamma, a known Khalistan extremist, admitting that over £1 million was spent on the so-called “Khalistan London Declaration.” Even more shocking is the claim that £60,000 was paid to each guest for delivering a mere 15-minute speech—including to Lord Nazir.
This revelation exposes a troubling strategy—one that prioritizes financial incentives over genuine public sentiment. If such massive sums are being funneled into pro-Khalistan propaganda, it raises the question: how organic is this movement, really? The fact that people are being paid substantial amounts to speak in favor of the cause undermines any legitimacy it might have otherwise claimed. It turns what should be a matter of self-determination into a transactional spectacle, where voices are bought and opinions are engineered.
For years, the Khalistan movement has claimed to rely on diaspora funding to sustain its separatist ambitions. This latest exposé suggests that much of this money isn’t being used to aid struggling communities or advocate for legitimate rights—it’s being funneled into elaborate PR stunts designed to mislead the world. From referendums to protests, it appears that financial incentives are the driving force behind many of these orchestrated events.
The most pressing question that arises from this revelation is: where is this money coming from? Funding a propaganda machine to the tune of over £1 million is no small feat. Are these enormous sums being funneled through illicit channels—perhaps linked to drug trade networks, money laundering, or organized crime? Or is this financial backing coming from external state actors, such as Pakistan, which has long been accused of supporting Khalistani elements as part of its broader anti-India strategy? Given the historical links between Khalistani extremists and Pakistan’s ISI, it would not be surprising if this funding were part of a larger geopolitical effort to destabilize India under the guise of “self-determination.” If so, this isn’t just a case of manipulated activism—it’s a matter of international security that demands urgent investigation.
This is not just a case of political opportunism; it is a direct manipulation of democratic discourse. Public protests and political movements derive their strength from authenticity, from the organic will of the people. But when individuals are paid exorbitantly to advocate for a cause, it ceases to be a movement and instead becomes a spectacle—one designed to create an illusion of widespread support where little may exist.
The international community, especially governments that host such events, must take note. The Khalistan agenda has often been linked to extremist elements, and revelations such as these further discredit its claims to legitimacy. Nations that have been platforms for such activism—whether in the UK, Canada, or the US—must critically assess whether they are enabling a movement built on financial transactions rather than genuine democratic expression.
Ultimately, if a cause requires millions to artificially manufacture protests, speeches, and referendums, it is not a cause of the people—it is a business. And it’s time the world stopped buying into it.
